A River's Bluff

The stormy weather slowly dispersed over the following day, the female rangers remained in sublime ignorance and Zipman's team--finally-- departed, amicably recompensed, via helicopter. How and myself (and, of course, Maximum Prime) collected our own selves*, making our way back to the big city after an unexpectedly... volatile... weekend.

Primitive camping had won over yet another zealous disciple.

* (We were regrettably forced to abandon our 4-man tent until the next memorable trek to our eyrie on the isthmus where we found it still pitched and intact, albeit pervaded by a noxious odor we dubbed 'parfum de skunklette', the lost hiking boot inside. Thereby adding further enigmatic facets to the growing conundrum regarding the true meaning for "rescue". We both kept our eyes widely peeled for both the Zipman as well as she-devils the whole time...no damn doubt. Fantasies and nightmares thrive.) Ear-to-ear, cum-dripping grin. I am out.

P.S. Just an addendum to all would be Puritans and Judgmentalists: No animals were hurt during the writing of this Fantasy and God forbid anything more than the four major food groups were actually ingested...just sayin''''''''. Ba-Da-Boom, with a finger spread.